


Him

by tinycrown



Series: You ever have that one character you adore? yeah that's anduin. [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, anduin is sad, bc shes bitter 24/7, distant jaina is distant, enjoy crying, features; praying furiously for a connection to dead dad, genn is angerey, its almost all romance, just read it i made it really sad, no one seems to be able to write anything sad for anduin, okay?, velen just wants him to be okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: Anduin misses his father, not without reason. Velen tries to reach out, but even his own power in the Light can hardly comfort the young king in his time of need.





	Him

**Author's Note:**

> fucc

Anduin knelt, and prayed, his hands clasped so tightly they became numb, trembling in the freezing, torrential rains that wracked Stormwind’s cobblestone roads and sturdy Elwynn oak-built homes. Thunder boomed above him, but even the dark blue cloak he wore could not keep the water from soaking through, chilling him to the bone. Every bit of him was cold, his body wracking with shivers as his mind begged to sleep, to eat. He couldn’t. Not until he could reach him, his spirit, just once. He wanted to feel the warmth again, to be  _ held _ by him again. 

Anduin went to the Cathedral first, but even the Archbishop bade him back to his keep, which he refused to return to. It was filled with so many memories, mostly bad, but he cherished the good ones. He remembered the way his father kept him close by after that first attempt on his own life at the age of three, he remembered his loud, gruff laugh. His kind, soft words spoken rarely, but he knew only those words could be directed toward him, the way he would smile, the way he would yell...

“I cannot do this, Father,” 

Varian Wrynn was a torrent of emotions, sucking things in a spitting them back out so harshly they would shatter. But Anduin refused to break, he refused to give up, to let go. Out of stubbornness or love, he didn’t know which. He would hold on with all of his might, nails digging and scratching. He would go out fighting.

For him? Anything. Anything at all. 

But what Anduin wouldn’t give to break, for a moment. To let it out, he wanted to cry, he did, but he refused.  _ You have more courage than I do, and it flows from a place deep within your heart. Remember what your uncle Magni used to say? 'Strength comes in many forms…’ _

“Both small and large…” He whispered, remembering the warmth as his father held him, the boy he used to be crying angrily, hopelessly, in front of his mother’s grave. 

But now he knelt in front of his troubled late father’s grave, the memorial at Lion’s Rest surrounded by the other heroes that had fallen before the Legion’s horror. An empty coffin, carved out in his memory, so the citizens would never forget, so  _ he _ would never forget. Anduin remembered the moment he sprang up in his bed in a cold sweat, trembling at his very core. Wyll had come to him, concerned. Anduin expressed his fear, and his vision. 

His father, bravely sacrificing himself- screaming as he was torn apart from the inside and left to nothing but dust. The old servant had placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke a poor attempt of reassuring him. It did not work, and the moment he’d been informed the next day by Genn himself, Anduin knew it was over. He’d nearly collapsed, but he knew it was coming. He forbade himself to cry, to show any other emotion than held grief. Jaina was nearby yet so distant, Velen had rarely left his side, something Anduin gravely needed and appreciated in his time of darkness. The other leaders, some he hadn’t been too close with, but his father had, and he made a sad pursuit in trying to comfort  _ them _ . Mekkatorque rehashed angrily-almost as angry as Genn- at how the Horde simply left with no warning than a horn. 

Anduin let him rant, he and Genn both, in their separate times. They were struck with regret and grief, but not as much as Anduin was. They could never understand the bond he and his father had both shared toward the end, something Anduin felt was stronger than thorium. It was rocky, there were heated arguments-some debatably edging on violence from his troubled father’s side, but it was there. He knew that deep down inside, his father did love him, and he was  _ not _ ashamed of him. 

“You are trembling terribly, my King,” An ageless yet old voice drifted into his numb ears, a large, warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“Leave me.” Anduin lamented helplessly, hands clasped impossibly tighter in the hope the Light would reach back and connect him to what he needed most. 

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, for I fear you will come down with pneumonia,” His other hand grasped Anduin’s opposite shoulder, and tucked the young priest into his side.  “What is it you seek, child?” 

Anduin, not being one to truly enjoy avoiding questions when he so badly didn’t want to answer, attempted to speak. But he couldn’t, not with the giant lump forcing its way up his throat. The sob that cracked his throat hurt, despite almost all of him being soaked his throat was not one of them. He couldn’t form words to express how he was feeling, and the compass tucked away in his pouch didn’t help as a reminder… Anduin bowed his head, ashamed of his actions, and leaned them against his pale, shaking fists. He couldn’t feel his fingers. Were they turning blue? Or was that purple? 

“Anduin, please, we must get you warm,”

“I need-I need to feel  _ something _ . Anything. Light, please!” He shoulders convulsed and heaved while salty tears mixed with the rain droplets melted across his face. One hot, one cold, meeting in the middle. Warmth. Something he couldn’t feel. “Please…” He was left frigid and empty, begging to hear or feel or  _ smell _ something remotely familiar-he knew the Light was capable- it had happened before.  _ Please _ … 

He was enveloped in warmth, but not the right kind. His chest was still devoid of anything hopeful, and he felt utterly morose. He smelled crystals and flora, a gentle scent that lulled him peacefully. He did not dwell on the shame in crying in front of his greatest teachers- an ageless prophet, no less, simply because he was trying to get the feeling back in his fingers. It would not come. He was numb. 

“You must breathe, my student, we shall return to the keep. Can you walk?” 

Anduin simply knelt as Velen stood, and offered a hand. The newly crowned(for the second time)King took his hand, which felt comically large compared to his own, as he stood shakily. 

“My leg hurts,” He complained quietly, feeling the warm tears still cascading down his face, though no one would think other than rain if they were to see him. It was still coming down quite heavily. He took a look back at the memorial, and forced himself to look away.  _ I don’t want to leave him _ .

Velen kept a steady hand on his back the entire agonizing and painful walk back to the keep, and not even the toughest of his Royal Guards could stomach looking at the pitiful sight of their young King, simply nodding as he walked by while staring forward. 

He led Anduin to his chambers, and slipped the heavy-drenched cloak off of his shoulders. Wyll was there, already waiting with fresh clothes and tea, chamomile vanilla, his favorite. They left him to his privacy- not that  _ either _ of them hadn’t seen him indecent before, back when his bones were shattered, he doubt he could have been taken care of and healed while completely clothed, and Wyll had taken care of him since he was a baby. It hardly bothered him, so he changed quickly while the other two spoke quietly. It felt better to be in warmer clothes, and he started to feel his fingers and toes again. 

Shivering, Anduin pulled his sleeves down from their bunched fold crowded at his elbow, and rubbed his hands together. Wyll handed him the cup, and he kept his hands wrapped around it, hoping to seep some warmth from the tea. He sipped it slowly, bringing heat back to his cold body. Wyll stoked the fire, and smiled gently toward Anduin before exiting the room, leaving him with Velen. He avoided eye contact warily, bringing the cup up to his lips again and inhaling the fresh scent of vanilla bean. 

Velen gestured for him to sit, and so he did. His bed was cushy and comfortable, one that used to be his father’s. They moved him out of his smaller room-one he enjoyed staying in-to the large one that used to inhabit a burly man larger than he. Anduin was still unused to the size, and always found himself staring off out of the closed windows, either at sunshine or pouring rain. It was too big. It was lonely. He placed the cup down on the short dresser in front of the bed, and leaned against the bottom footboard. 

“You still do not enjoy it in here?” Velen inquires as he drags a chair that creaks under his comical size, his back straight but leaning forward slightly. Anduin smoothed a hand over the bed sheets that  _ he _ used to sleep in, and let himself clench the fabric tight in his fist. 

“It smells like him.” He expressed sorrowfully, eyes shut as his brows furrowed. The lump in his throat was back, and he struggled to breathe past it. 

“What is so terrible about that, does it not comfort you?” 

“It makes me miss him more,” Anduin spoke quietly, for he feared he would break down again if he spoke too loud. Velen’s brows furrowed deeply, and he reached out with his hand. Anduin hesitated before taking it, and let the Light flow through him. 

“You are blocked from the Light, you have been for a while. Do you know why?”

Anduin shook his head, bangs wavy and hanging in front of his face heavily. He could barely answer. Velen frowned, as if offended by his own statement. It seems that even  _ he _ did not know why, but was angered in the absence of reason. 

“That… does not make much sense. You feel as if it has abandoned you?”

“I just wanted to hear him again… I had hoped that the Light would help me, but it seems my praying was fruitless.” He scrubbed his palm against his eyes as water threatened to drip from them. He kept ahold of the faucet. Velen got up from the chair and sat beside him, the bed creaking loudly. The priests both flinched at the noise. “I cannot sleep here.”

“You do not have much of a choice, child.” Anduin deflated at his words, his shoulders slumped. “I would bless you with sleep, if you asked.” The younger priest stared up at him and nodded, gulping audibly. 

Thumbs brushed against his temples, two massive hands grasping his face between them. The Prophet could easily crush his skull, Anduin mused, it was a wonder even allies were not intimidated by him. He felt a flow of serenity pass over him, and Velen’s soft grin crossed his vision, before he fell into the deepest reaches of sleep. Though it disturbed him how he was unable to feel the familiar warmth of the Light in his darkest hours. He wondered if even the Shadow had left his pathetic body. But there was no time to dwell on it then, images of the compass and his father’s pleased face drifted by him, and the smell of him. A blazing fire surrounded by the pleasing scent of hardwood and distinct metals from faraway lands. 

In his misery, Anduin smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> sad anduin is sad, give him some more sad content and happy content. i dont write much romance for a reason, if you've seen my profile. i don't have a problem with it, but when you have a character thats gone through some shit some people just gotta write them being sad, for the sad feels. im not gonna sugarcoat it, anduin/sylvanas is fucking gross and i really dont want to read that, i literally hang out in the anduin wrynn tag to read some stuff and all i see is just romance and smut literally everywhere. i don't have a problem with it, because u do u honeyboo(i myself ship wranduin bc sometimes you need someone other than a platonic father/son mother/son character to hold ur lil sad boi), but at the same time, where is his d e a d fucking d a d in all of this. like. what. 
> 
> sorry bout the rant, didnt mean to offend anyone but this is just how i feel so :/


End file.
